


in tongues and quiet sighs

by scholar_rhodes



Category: All Elite Wrestling, Professional Wrestling
Genre: Animal Death, Brotherly Angst, Demonic Possession, Gen, Internal Conflict, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:33:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24573124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scholar_rhodes/pseuds/scholar_rhodes
Summary: The possession of Cody Rhodes, told in ten parts.
Relationships: Goldust | Dustin Rhodes & Cody Rhodes
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	in tongues and quiet sighs

**Author's Note:**

> Unironically inspired by Being The Elite's episode "The Excorcism of Cody Rhodes" but played mostly straight. Everything is tagged other than minor things and implications. If you think anything absent from the tags needs to be up there, feel free to let me know. Title from All This and Heaven Too by Florence and The Machine.
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts on this!

1.

It starts backstage at a show, after the lights have been dimmed and the audience has left, the arena empty aside from talent and workers.

Dustin's driving back home on his own, but he waits for a word with Cody, sitting in his dressing room while Cody gets changed. Everyone else has said their goodbyes, but Cody takes his time, shuffling out of the bathroom with a confused look on his face at finding Dustin still there, eyebrows pinched together. He visibly deliberates his words, a smile curving his mouth.

"Can I stay with you?" Cody asks, changed into gray sweatpants and a maroon t-shirt. His eyes flicker between Dustin's face and the door, fixating briefly on a spot of mold on the ceiling before landing flat on Dustin's face again. "Been a while since we hung out."

It's true. "Get your things," Dustin says, "And let's go, already."

His brother is gaunt in the face and hollow inside, but he still smiles at Dustin in the in-between moments and Dustin swallows down his suspicion, leading Cody to the parking lot, attributing Cody's startlingly milky eyes to a trick of the light.

2.

Cody sleeps in late and then spends ages in the shower, steam billowing around him as he steps outside - naked, Dustin might note, like he forgot he had company, that he wasn't in his own home anymore. His smile is sharp and luminous under the fluorescents. Cody claps a hand on Dustin's shoulder and laughs "Never felt better," when Dustin pushes the question on him, scanning the pale veins under Cody's skin, how his tan has faded in record time. They're in Georgia in the thick of summer. It doesn't quite add up.

The days, he doesn't number - Dustin counts them in moments, moments where Cody falls back into a persona Dustin hasn't seen in years, affable and humorous, laughing at Dustin's jokes like he knows something Dustin doesn't. It's a small thing, nothing at all, but Cody's shadow stretches longer than Dustin's does in the sunlight and, well, Dustin turns a blind eye. When Cody zones out as they cook, clutching the knife in his hand until his knuckles go bloodless and hollow, Dustin turns a blind eye.

Watching TV, Dustin spots their reflections in the briefly black screen that follows a fight scene. Cody's reflection grins at him. As Dustin side-eyes him in the very same moment, Cody's face remains smooth and impassive. He pats Dustin's knee, murmurs "Pay attention."

The worst part is, Dustin knows that's not his brother. Cody has changed.

The part that kills him is the fact that Cody's a hell of a lot more pleasant, nowadays, his jagged edges removed. Cody smiles more, makes more time for Dustin, looks at him with these oddly bright eyes that Dustin catches in reflective surfaces-

And it's not his brother. And Dustin knows. He doesn't say a word about it.

3.

Cody stands on swaying legs, right in the middle of the living room, head tilted at an odd angle. He's sleepwalking again - has been for weeks.

"Cody?" Dustin sighs, putting a hand on a slumped shoulder, watching in dread and fascination as Cody's eyes stare blankly ahead. For a second, something flickers behind the pupils. Something in the air goes tense.

Cody murmurs a dream-like, "Get me out of here, Dustin," before he blinks, seemingly returning to his senses, offering a small smile as he shakes off Dustin's touch. He looks tired, like sleep keeps evading him, like nightmares have been plaguing him every time he makes the attempt. "Again?" Cody asks, giving Dustin a wry smile, fingers curling around Dustin's wrist. His skin is hot, burning; it feels like a brand, leaving invisible bruises. When Dustin flinches from the touch, Cody releases him, a calculating twitch to his smile.

"Sorry to be a bother," Cody laughs as he drifts back to his room. Dustin's wrist tingles; there's a lingering warmth and _wrongness_ sticking to his skin. His brother hasn't been home in months.

4.

Everything is fine, Dustin tells himself. Things are better than they've been in years, but the puppeteer in Cody's body isn't playing the part to perfection, anymore.

Cody gets nasty. He gets into violent moods. Dustin cleans up split knuckles and raw wrists and tells himself, every step of the way, that he's not taking the easy way out as he picks up mirror shards and ignores the sound of the front door opening at odd hours of the night, watching from the upstairs window as Cody walks off into the darkness, his silhouette gradually melting into nothing.

He's always there in the mornings, bright and early, not having slept, yet. "Don't worry about me," Cody chuckles, pinning Dustin with a look that makes him feel like prey, Cody smiling at him from across the kitchen island, one hand trembling on the marble. "I'm having fun."

"I bet you are," Dustin agrees, not taking his eyes off of Cody. Outside, there's barking, the yappy lapdog from next door making noise in the driveway. Cody's eyes cut to the front door, practically staring a hole in it, a veil slowly falling across his eyes, rendering them blank and calm. "Well, I'm going to the gym."

Cody waves him off without a word, still staring at the door. The scalding cup of coffee in his hand leaves his slowly unclenching fingers bright red. Dustin flees his own home in record time.

Truth is, he's scared of the darkness in Cody.

He's scared of losing the first real connection they've had in years. The imitation smiles before Dustin leaves and Dustin forces himself to smile back.

5.

On Thursday, Dustin scours the Internet when he's sure Cody's out and half an hour later, he makes a call. "There's something wrong with my brother," he admits, pacing in the kitchen. "I don't know what to do."

There are numerous websites, some more credible than others. Dustin feels like an idiot for considering going to such extreme lengths, but he keeps losing Cody - to his narcissism, to his ambition, to something unknown that dug its claws into him and decided to burrow inside, make a home.

They agree on Sunday afternoon. Dustin makes a note of it and tries to get back to life as he knows it, scowling at the website that proclaims _We solve the supernatural_ and scoffs, slamming the laptop shut.

6.

There's a subtle scent about Cody now, like meat sitting at the back of the fridge, hours off from spoiling. He passes Dustin in the hallway, their shoulders bumping. Cody's bonier, less muscle on his frame and he tilts his head curiously as Dustin's pulse jumps in his throat. "Have you been thinking about when to go back home?" Dustin asks, trying to keep the question casual, not wanting to set off alarm bells. The asking is subtle; he doesn't want Cody to go, yet. Not until Sunday.

Cody's smile is all persuasion and mirth, murmuring "I kinda like it here," like that settles it, like there's no need to ask Dustin to extend the invitation. "Want to go for a run tomorrow?"

He says things that Cody would say at all the right times. Dustin's smile feels wan, but it's still a smile.

"Sure thing," he agrees, watching Cody disappear into the guest room, not letting himself linger on the mutterings he hears from behind the closed door.

7.

The first person that tries to help Cody lasts all of one conversation before making a beeline for the door. Cody's eyes linger on the man's back, lips twitching. "What the hell was that?" Dustin hisses in the man's ear, catching him by the collar as he trembles, groping for his keys under Dustin's watchful eye. "You said you'd help. I already paid-"

The man fumbles a hundred-dollar bill into Dustin's pocket, laughing shortly, shaking his head. "This," he says, staring past Dustin's shoulder at the open door, where a shadow stands, "Is way above my paygrade. That thing-"

Thing, he says. Cody shifts in the doorway, his shadow flickering. "That thing isn't human. I'm not - I'm trying to feed a family, man, let me get out of here-"

Dustin releases the man's shirt, watching as he hightails it out of there. "What was that all about?" Cody asks, veiling the question in innocent curiosity, as if Dustin's pretense at calling in an exterminator - which is partly true, deep down - fooled Cody for even a second.

"I'll get a real professional," Dustin mutters, putting three feet of space between himself and Cody as he shifts in the open doorway, "We've got an infestation."

"Right," Cody agrees. "I'm going for a walk."

He heads in the same direction as the car. When Dustin goes to shut the door, Cody is impossibly far away.

It's off-putting in a way he can't define, watching the blond head disappear downhill. He closes and locks the door, sitting down on the couch with a heavy heart.

Next, Dustin calls a priest.

8.

"Are you Catholic?"

Dustin sighs. "I don't think it matters what I am. I just need you to help him."

"Faith," the priest muses, "Is a powerful weapon."

"It's one I don't have in my arsenal," Dustin snaps, then takes a deep breath. "Father, I'm afraid he's going to hurt someone."

He's afraid Cody already has. It's been a while since he left. News of a wreck a couple of streets over showed up on the TV five minutes ago and Cody still isn't home and all Dustin can do is twiddle his thumbs, trying to convince himself that he's doing the right thing.

"I'll bring a team," the priest decides, "Tomorrow. Don't alert it. We need the element of surprise on our side."

"Thank you," Dustin breathes, then asks "How much of my brother am I getting back, after...?"

The uncomfortable silence stretches for a while.

"I can't promise anything," he's told. "Only that we'll work to excorise-"

"Thanks again."

Dustin hangs up, wondering how this is his life.

9.

The next day dawns bright and early. Cody announces that he's making pancakes for breakfast, practically harassing Dustin to take a seat and watch as Cody stands uncomfortably close to the open flames, like he doesn't notice it singing him, or like he's waiting for Dustin to call him out on it. He says nothing, feeling drained in every way - mentally, physically, spiritually.

"You love me, don't you?"

Cody's casual, but pointed. Only Dustin could infer that from the arched eyebrow, the flatness of Cody's mouth. He shrugs, picking at a loose thread in his jeans. "Of course I do."

Dustin wages a war with himself and his damnable, loose honesty. Sometimes, with the way Cody looks at him lately, Dustin thinks it'll get him killed, sooner rather than later. He eats his pancakes and fills the time until dinner with hiding himself away in his room, pretending otherwise, not knowing how to face Cody before Dustin inevitably betrays him.

It's no easy thing to contend with, but Dustin knows things have gone too far. It doesn't matter how painfully easy it's been not to miss Cody, lately, when things are going bump in the night and Cody has blood beneath his fingernails. "Tacos?" Dustin asks, keeping his eyes fixated on the shells.

"No thanks," Cody waves him off, smiling genially, "I ate already."

Outside, through the gap in the curtains, Dustin can see his neighbor plastering posters on lampposts for her missing chihuahua as Dustin comes to a horrifying conclusion.

Cody waits for a response, a giddy grin sitting rigid on his bloodless lips. "Right," Dustin clears his throat, "Alright. More for me, then."

10.

The holy men come. Three knocks at the door and Dustin's letting them in, leading them upstairs to Cody's room, not seeing light spill out from beneath the door.

Cody's sitting in absolute darkness, on the foot of the bed.

"Dustin," he says, his eyes no longer blue, "You love me, don't you?"

"I do."

"Then come here."

Dustin doesn't move an inch. Cody launches himself forward from his sitting position, hissing in Dustin's ear, crooning "Maybe I'll see you in hell," with laughter spearing through his words, kissing Dustin's cheek with a shocking amount of affection. "Don't keep me waiting, brother."

He's not Dustin's brother. The thing that gets strapped down to the bed is eerily calm, watching Dustin through the proceedings, not saying a word until it muses "You're going to wonder who you loved more," and Dustin's heart squeezes painfully in his chest, all the air vacating his lungs in one ragged sigh.

Something malicious eases out of the room, eventually. Cody's body goes limp, sweat beating on his brow, gathering in a pool in the dip of his throat. "Peace and quiet is the best recourse," the priest tells him, stern-faced and still kind. "The church is open to all god's children," but Dustin's pretty sure Cody's not going to get within a hundred feet of a church anytime soon. The cross-shaped scar burned into his chest is a testament to that.

Cody wakes at odd hours, confused and rattled, thrashing in Dustin's arms. He's not accusatory. He doesn't say a single word through the night until he's shoving Dustin away, curling up on his side and giving Dustin his back. It's a clear message to be left alone so Dustin goes, downstairs, where the lights are still bright.

It feels less dreary, now. It feels lonelier, too.

Dustin drinks himself into a stupor, ending up with his elbows on his knees, contemplating the empty driveway and the restless noise of creaking bedsprings from upstairs. It's a sleepless night for both of them.

The hardest part to admit to himself, once everything is over and Cody is on the road back to normal, sleeping it off-

-is the fact that Dustin liked the fake one better.


End file.
